


Affection

by 391780 (goblinparty)



Series: Cold Wind [6]
Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: M/M, gunfights!, murderboyfriends!, smooches!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2193891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblinparty/pseuds/391780
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Numbers woke up first. His brain throbbed against the inside of his skull, and the grey light of day streaming through the windows threatened to blind him permanently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affection

Numbers woke up first. His brain throbbed against the inside of his skull, and the grey light of day streaming through the windows threatened to blind him permanently. He groaned, trying to recount exactly how much he had to drink the night before. He twisted to sit up, and found two large arms unconsciously wrapped around his torso. Numbers gasped to himself, desperately trying to remember exactly what had happened the night before. He remembered fighting, and crying? Oh fuck, did he cry in front of this idiot? Shit. What happened after that? He racked his brain, trying to remember. He laid on the couch, still entwined in Wrench's arms, panicking silently. He slowly slid off the couch, careful not to wake Wrench, and stood over him a moment,watching the larger man sleep. All this gay business aside, nobody had ever been as gentle with Numbers as Wrench had been. He watched Wrench's chest slowly rise and fall, and caught himself thinking how beautiful he looked like that. A shock of panic hit him and he quickly padded out to the kitchen, desperate to put some distance between himself and emotions he didn't quite understand. He mixed some instant coffee, and reluctantly sipped at it, trying to wake up and get his bearings. If he was being honest with himself (and he never was), what he really wanted was to climb back on the couch and curl up against the warm body in the next room. A few minutes later, he heard Wrench stir, followed by the sound of padding footsteps.

Wrench sauntered into the kitchen, his copper hair poking out in every direction. He smiled groggily at Numbers, who was doing his best to avoid eye contact. Wrench poked him in the chest.

_How are you feeling?_

_Why?_

Wrench scowled. What a fucking hardass.

_You had a rough night._

_I don't remember._

_You don't?_

_No._

Numbers heard Wrench sigh, and felt his stomach flip. Oh Christ, what had they done?

 _We didn't...._ he hesitated, his hands frozen midair.

 _Didn't what?_ Wrench's jaw was set, expecting that whatever Numbers would say next would be, at the very least, hurtful.

_We didn't fuck, did we?_

Wrench threw his head back and laughed, a deep and breathy laugh that seemed to Numbers to vibrate off of everything.

 _Did we....?_ Numbers looked scared.

Wrench debated messing with him. He would have loved to have seen Numbers' face if he'd said, yes, we fucked like animals and your beard is still full of my cum. Yes, we did and you loved every second of it. Yes, and I can barely sit. Wrench knew, however, it would probably end in his death, if not a broken jaw.

 _I just gotta know, man._ Numbers looked desperate.

 _Is that something you think you'd do while drunk?_ Wrench cocked an eyebrow.

 _You are a fucking p-u-n-k._ A blush started to creep across Numbers' face.

Wrench laughed at that. _We didn't do anything. You were crying. I held you to make you feel better._

_We didn't do anything?_

Wrench cocked his head. Numbers didn't look as relieved as he had anticipated.

_Disappointed?_

Numbers' face grew redder, and he quickly left the kitchen and went outside to the shed to bring in more firewood. Wrench noticed he didn't even bother to put on a coat or shoes. He sighed and leaned against the sink, drowning in his own thoughts. He could never tell if he was making progress with Numbers or not. He only saw two possible outcomes; complete happiness or a bullet in the brain. With men like that, there was no middle ground.

Emotions were stupid, Numbers decided as he loaded up his arms with wood. His feet were frozen in the snow, and he cursed himself for being in such a hurry as to forget shoes and a coat. He just needed time to think and process what the fuck was going on. One thing was certain, he knew he needed to be gentler with Wrench. He had been the only person in a very, very long time to show him any amount of kindness or loyalty, and Numbers knew if he wanted to keep him around he couldn't keep pushing him away. Numbers trudged back inside, still grappling with the idea of needing to keep someone around for the sake of their own happiness.

As he stepped back inside the cabin, he could see Wrench was already working on getting the fireplace set up, lining kindling across the bottom of the stone hearth. Numbers set the wood down next to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

_I'm gonna make a run for the store. If I have to drink powdered coffee again I am going to blow my brains out. Need anything?_

_If you can find food that isn't from the A-r-m-y, I would be grateful._

_Can do._

___________

Numbers strolled around the Phoenix Farms, picking up enough supplies to feed them for the next two days. He also loaded up on some of Wrench's favorite snacks, including those awful-smelling corn nuts that Wrench insisted were delicious.

_There is no way anything that pungent is delicious. No way._

_I promise they are._ Wrench had signed in powder-coated fingers.

Numbers was ready to check out when he saw the display of comic books near the registers. He'd seen Wrench read a few, and knew how much he liked reading about Hawkeye. He picked up a few copies with a man in a ridiculous purple mask on the cover, and went to the cashier.

Numbers glanced around the counter, seeing magazines of large breasted blonde women in tight sweaters and bathing suits smiling at him. That sort of thing had never really appealed to him, honestly, and for the first time in his life started to wonder if maybe that was indicative of something bigger. The whole drive home he found himself wondering if maybe, despite his initial reactions, he was attracted to men after all. He was so distracted he didn't even notice the blue Cadillac following him.

Wrench sat by the window, waiting for Numbers to pull up. He drummed his fingers against the windowsill, impatient for the older man to return. He needed to say something to him before everything got out of control between the both of them. He wanted to apologize for being so forward, for being so pushy, for being such an annoyance. Wrench desperately hoped the conversation he was anticipating would be like a giant reset button, putting them back where they were before Wrench had ever kissed him. He told himself it was for the best, that he needed to put his professionalism first and let everything else fall by the wayside. That's how Numbers lived, and he was the best in the business. No matter how many times Wrench tried to justify giving up hope of being loved by the gruff little man, he couldn't stop his heart from sinking.

When Numbers finally arrived back at the cabin, Wrench shot out of his chair and rushed outside to help unload groceries. Numbers kicked the snow off his boots as Wrench laid everything out on the counter. Wrench felt a tap on his back.

 _It's boring here, so I got these for you._ Numbers held up a couple of issues of Hawkeye, volume 3. Wrench's heart flipped. It was an uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture, and his heart held on to hope that maybe the other man felt at least the smallest bit of affection for him.

 _Thank you, he's my favorite._ He smiled brightly, holding the comic to his chest.

Numbers smiled, pleased that his gift was appreciated.

 _I'm going to make some dinner. S-p-a-g-h-e-t-t-i._ Wrench showed him the sign. _Spaghetti. I've got some chips and stuff in the bag I put on the couch if you want._

_Do you need help cooking?_

_No, I should be fine. Go read your c-o-m-i-c book._

Wrench wandered into the living room, plopping himself down on the couch. He peered into the bag of chips, which was filled entirely with some of his favorite snacks. He reeled slightly. Was Numbers messing with him? All of this seemed too good to be true. For a moment, he allowed himself to pretend they were together, his boyfriend cooking dinner while he relaxed on the couch. It felt nice. His resolve to hit the reset button on their relationship diminished into nothing. He got off the couch and stalked back to the kitchen, tapping Numbers on the shoulder.

_I want to talk to you about something._

Wrench could see the apprehension in Numbers' face.

_I think the reason you're so uncomfortable around me is because I know so much about you, and you don't know anything about me._

_I know you're deaf and g-a-y and kill people. That's a lot._

Wrench snorted and rolled his eyes. _B-i, but that's not the point. I know about your family, bits of your childhood, and you have none of that information from me. It seems really one-sided, now that I think about it. I can understand why you've been hesitant to share anything with someone you barely know._

 _I know you._ Numbers bit his lip. _That other stuff doesn't matter. Where you're from, who you were, it doesn't make a difference. You, now, as you are, in front of me, that's all that matters. Past is behind us. I'm only worried about now and the next day. Everything else is pointless to worry about._

Numbers paused, debating whether or not to continue. How sappy did he really want to be? He raised himself up on his toes and lightly kissed Wrench on the cheek.

_You and me. All that matters._

Wrench looked stunned, and Numbers could hear his breath hitch in his chest. He wasn't sure if he had done the exact right thing or the exact wrong thing, but it was done, and now he leaned awkwardly against the sink awaiting consequences.

Wrench's heart felt full, overstuffed, and ready to explode. He quickly closed the distance between them, wrapping an arm around Numbers' waist, pressing his lips against his partners. This time, there was no resistance. Numbers snaked an arm around Wrench, sucking on his bottom lip and pressing himself against the other man. Numbers laughed at himself for being so uptight about this. It felt good to be enveloped by Wrench's arms, and on top of that, the man was a good kisser. He felt the vibrations of Wrench moaning softly into his mouth, and grinned.

Suddenly, glass and wood exploded around them with a series of loud bangs. A blue Cadillac was parked out front of the cabin, and three large men with semiautomatics were firing from behind its open doors. Wrench and Numbers dropped to the floor, pulling out their concealed handguns. Numbers slid his Sig Sauer across the floor to his partner.

_You cover me. I have an idea._

Wrench nodded, and began firing blindly into the snow outside. He watched Numbers crawl away towards the back bedroom. Wrench found himself begging the universe for the second time in two days, this time for the safety of his almost-boyfriend. He peered over the windowsill, he could see the men, with their balaclavas and guns pointed towards the cabin. Wrench saw one suddenly drop, a red spray emitting from his head. The other two turned to look at their fallen comrade, and soon they dropped just as quickly and messily as their friend. Wrench saw Numbers come out from behind a tree. He'd somehow managed to get outside and flank them. Numbers turned towards the house and smiled when he saw his partners head pop up from behind the wall. He jogged over to Wrench.

_Are you OK?_

_Yeah, you?_

_Yeah._

_Thank God._

Numbers grinned, and kissed his hand.

_Come on, let's get rid of these idiots and go home. You grab the shovels from the tool shed, I'll call the Aussie and let him know what's going on._

_____________

Several hours later, the bodies were buried, the cabin was patched up, and the two men were barreling down the road with an absurdly heavy backpack in the back seat. It was dark, and Wrench could see all the stars in the sky, and marveled at how beautiful the Milky Way looked. He rested a hand on the seat next to him, hoping his partner would notice and hold it. His heart flipped as he felt large, strong fingers intertwine with his. Wrench grinned, looking over at his partner, who sleepily smiled back. Wrench knew this was only the beginning of something really rare and wonderful, and looked up at the shimmering night sky, sending out a thank you to the universe for listening.

 

 

 


End file.
